“It`s not the end
Not the kingdom come
It is the journey that matters, the distant wanderer
Call of the wild
In me forever and ever and ever forever”
(Nightwish – Wanderlust)
It is too easy to forget, sometimes, that the journey matters as much as the destination. I have an intense dislike for most things related to the technicalities of travelling – I get car sick, I border on claustrophobic in crowds, and find airport security very stressful. I cope with all of it by seizing the opportunity to relax; I never travel without a book in my purse, and disappear into it whenever I have the chance. Another trick is to pay attention to the details; usually I can even enjoy the journey through things like finding the perfect present for a friend, chatting with the nice woman ringing up my purchase in the airport bookstore or making up stories in my head about the handsome couple next to me on the train.
Writing my previous post on self-esteem, I was reminded of how photography too is a journey. I have very little prestige invested in my photos; I was always much more interested in writing than the visual arts, so there has never been any expectation from myself or anyone else for me to be “good” at this little hobby. Rather, photography remains a private hobby for me, since very few people in real life get to see my shots or even know that I take photos at all. My own learning curve and the personal emotional appeal of my photos have come to matter so much more than technical superiority or originality, and I intend to keep it that way, treasuring my own photographic journey and hoping it never ends.